


We've All Got Our Junk

by OomnyDevotchka



Category: Teen Wolf (TV) RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-09
Updated: 2013-01-09
Packaged: 2017-11-24 05:50:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/631128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OomnyDevotchka/pseuds/OomnyDevotchka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyler meets a guy at a fashion show. Really, it's just porn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We've All Got Our Junk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dephigravity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dephigravity/gifts).



> Thanks to [kodamasama](http://kodamasama.livejournal.com/) for betaing and assuring me that the porn in this doesn't suck. The inspiration for this fic was provided by [dephigravity](http://archiveofourown.org/users/dephigravity/pseuds/dephigravity)'s fantastic artwork, which can be found [here](http://dephigravity.livejournal.com/82359.html).

           One of these days, Tyler really should learn how to say ‘no’ to Crystal.

            It’s not that he has the sort of puppy-dog crush on her that his character does, but she’s just so damn sweet and adorable that he can’t bring himself to disappoint her, ever.

            This is how he has found himself slouching in a plush chair about two feet from a runway, waiting for a fashion show to begin.

            Beside him, Crystal adjusts her purple beret over her dark curls, shooting a half-hearted glare at Tyler out of the corner of her eye. “Sit up straight,” she scolds. “We’re in the front row.”

            “Isn’t that all the more reason to slouch?” Tyler asks, fully aware that he’s pouting but unable to summon the willpower to stop it. “Let the people behind me see?”

            Crystal turns fully towards him and trains those big brown eyes on him. “Tyler,” she says quietly, and Tyler immediately sits up straight, mentally cursing whoever had decided to cast Crystal Reed in _Teen Wolf_.

            “Thank you,” Crystal says sincerely once Tyler has straightened up. “Now stop pouting, it’ll be fun!”

            “I doubt it,” Tyler mutters, but he does stop pouting.

            Crystal reaches over and loops an arm through Tyler’s, leaning her head on his shoulder. “There’s going to be a lingerie section, later on,” she says. Her voice is nonchalant, but her eyes hold a wicked amusement.

            Tyler perks up. “Why didn’t you open with that?” he asks, staring at the runway as though he can make hot half-naked models appear with the power of his eyeballs and libido.

            “Wouldn’t want you to be too eager,” Crystal says. “Besides, it’s a nice surprise, isn’t it?” Tyler can’t see much of her face, since her head is still on his shoulder, but he can tell that she’s dimpling at him. He has to concede his point.

            Before he can answer, though, the lights go down and a man in a suit steps out from behind a curtain at the end of the runway. He starts talking, using a lot of words that Tyler doesn’t understand, like ‘palette’ and ‘ruching’.

            Luckily, the talking is short-lived, and the host soon steps behind the curtain again. Music starts up, something weird and drum-heavy, and the first model struts out from behind the curtain.

            Tyler finds himself bored almost instantly. All of the models in this part of the show are female, and though Tyler loves girls, loves smooth skin and boobs and slender waists, these models are all so _skinny_ , some dangerously so, that he finds it hard to be attracted to them. The weird shit that all of them seem to be wearing doesn’t help, really.

            Beside him, Crystal has sat up and is staring at the runway attentively, giving the occasional noise of approval. She seems super into it, so Tyler doesn’t dare interrupt her. Instead, he busies himself by trying to subtly glance around at the rest of the audience, to see if he can spot anyone famous. He still finds it hard to believe that he gets to come to shit like this, breathe the same air as movie stars and TV icons and pop stars, even though he’s been ‘in the business’ for most of his life.

            The music changes, suddenly, drums turning seamlessly to bass and tribal influences fading away in favor of a tune that wouldn’t be out of place in a club. From behind the curtain, a man steps onto the runway, and Tyler’s attention is immediately back on the show.

            Tyler likes guys almost as much as he likes girls, and the men that come down the runway are much more his type than the girls were: all lean muscle and cut cheekbones, dressed in shit that’s much less crazy than what the girls had been wearing.

            Tyler thinks that there’s probably something to be said in that about gender inequality and the shallowness of the modeling industry, and he cares about feminism, he _does_ , and not just because Crystal tells him he should, but right now he’s too busy ogling the hot guys to think any deeper into it.   

            The men’s part of the show seems to go much quicker than the women’s, even though they were probably the same length, and, before Tyler knows it, the models have all disappeared and the lights have come back up.

            He turns to Crystal outraged. “Is it over?” he demands. “You promised me lingerie, Reed.”

            Crystal smiles at him. “It’s just intermission, Tyler” she says. “Time for people to mingle and drink champagne and talk about the collection and get any small children out of here before the models start coming out half-naked.”

            Tyler feels kind of dumb, because that actually makes perfect sense. Crystal has a way of explaining things to him without talking down or acting like he’s a dumbass, though, so it’s not too bad. “Alright,” he says. “Shall we mingle, then?” he stands up and offers her his arm again with a dramatic flourish, causing Crystal to giggle as she takes it.

            They spend the next fifteen or so minutes mingling – or, rather, Crystal spends the next fifteen or so minutes mingling, while Tyler nods and tries to look interested and sips champagne that he wishes was beer.  

            Then, finally – _finally_ – everyone is heading back to their seats, taking some cue that Tyler had missed. He and Crystal settle in again, and he knows he looks noticeably more interested in the proceedings, sitting up straight without any prompting from Crystal.

            Nothing escapes Crystal’s surprisingly sharp Bambi-eyes, so she shoots him a quick smirk. She doesn’t say anything, though, which he’s grateful for – it could get awkward real fast if his on-screen love interest thought he was some kind of pervert or something.

            The music starts up for a third time, slow and sultry. When the women start to come out, Tyler feels like he’s in a strip club, only he’s pretty sure that no stripper would ever wear the cold and disinterested expression that is on every model’s face. Also, he’s pretty sure offering the models singles would be frowned upon.

            In all, he’s a little more attracted to the women this go around – he’s only human, and that much skin on display can hardly fail to stir up some interest. Still, though, there’s something about the way the models carry themselves that makes him feel like he should be ashamed of looking. 

            At least there is much less weird shit going on with the clothing this time. Tyler supposes that’s inevitable, though. There’s only so much strangeness that can happen on a bra and tiny panties.

            He’s expecting another music change to signal the start of the men’s part of the show, so he’s surprised when the first man steps out onto the runway without any warning. He’s certainly not disappointed, though, because the men look good, even better than they had in the earlier part of the show.

            Tyler watches in a happy state of semi-arousal for about ten minutes, filing the images of the models away in his mind for future jerk-off fantasies, but not becoming overly excited. He is in public, after all.

            That is, until one specific man steps out onto the runway. Then, all bets are off.

            Tyler vaguely recalls seeing this guy in the earlier part of the show, remembers the strong jawline, the hint of a cocky smirk playing around his full lips. And yeah, he’d looked damn good then, in a dark, sleek suit that emphasized the broadness of his shoulders and narrowness of his waist, his long legs and fantastic ass.  

            But now?

            Now, the guy’s clad in nothing but a pair of green boxer briefs, so tight that the outline of his dick is perfectly visible. He’s got like, a nine pack or something, and these _pecs_ , man. Not even the fact that he’s wearing this ridiculous pair of wings, like he’s a fucking Victoria’s Secret girl, can diminish his attractiveness.

            As the guy gets closer, sauntering down the runway like he owns the place and everyone in it, Tyler can see him in more detail. His face is just really unfair, somehow pretty and masculine at the same time, and _oh Christ_ , his nipples are pierced.

            Screw the fact that he’s in public – Tyler’s fully hard now.

            As the guy draws level with him on the runway, their eyes meet, just for a split second. Tyler swears there’s a glimmer of interest in his eyes, the slightest flash of hunger on his face before its schooled back into that aloof expression. He’s too busy trying to surreptitiously adjust himself inside his pants to really tell, though. He knew he shouldn’t have let Crystal talk him into wearing skinny jeans tonight.

            When the guy gets to the end of the runway, he strikes a pose, one arm coming up behind his head and weight shifted to one leg. The spotlight falls across him perfectly, creating little shadows underneath his cheekbones.

            The moment when the guy’s standing there like that, looking completely and utterly bangable, stretches out slowly, then breaks, all at once. Before Tyler knows it, the guy is walking past him again.   

            This time, Tyler can’t mistake his interest, because he has to turn his head slightly to catch Tyler’s eyes again, something that none of the other models had done. Tyler watches his ass as he goes, flexing and releasing with every step.

            When the guy disappears behind the curtain, Tyler realizes that he’s sitting on the very edge of his chair, almost in danger of falling off. His hands are clenched tightly around the armrests, and his dick is absolutely crying out for attention.

            With a shuddering breath, Tyler forces himself to relax, to lean back in his chair and stop trying to permanently mold his fingers to the chair. His fingers actually hurt a bit when he untangles them, which is a new experience for him. There’s nothing to be done about the erection, of course, but he’s fairly sure that it’s too dark for anyone to see it. Not that anyone’s looking at him, anyway.

            Except, it seems, for Crystal. “See something you like?” she whispers in his ear. He’s hit with a sudden wave of her perfume, which would usually drive him crazy, even though he doesn’t see her as anything more than a friend. Now, though, he’s either already as turned on as physically possible, or just dazed by Model Guy in general, because he barely registers the fact.

            Actually, he barely registers what she’s said, too. “What?” he asks stupidly. “Oh, um…”

            Crystal laughs, shifting back so her mouth isn’t so close to his ear. “You don’t have to be embarrassed,” she says, which makes him even _more_ embarrassed than he already was. “He was hot, huh?”

            “You could say that,” Tyler says weakly.

            Crystal, seeming to sense that Tyler’s incapable of intelligent conversation right now (not that he’s ever good for an intelligent conversation, really) and decides to have mercy on him, turning her attention back to the show with only a short laugh at his state.

            Tyler spends the rest of the show alternately trying to will down his boner with all his might and reliving Model Guy’s runway pass over and over in his mind. As a result, he’s still half-hard when the lights go up, which is just awkward as all hell.

            Luckily, the same guy who had spoken at the beginning of the show comes back out to speak for a few minutes, and Tyler is finally able to banish the boner for good by imagining him naked. It’s not a stimulating image, to say the least.

            Crystal wants to mingle a little more before they leave, so Tyler follows her like a dutiful coworker/puppy. Part of him, he has to admit, is hoping he’s going to see Model Guy again, maybe have some sort of conversation about that whole mutual interest thing they’ve got going on. None of the models seem to be out with the guests, though, even twenty minutes after the show has ended, so Tyler discards the idea. Probably wouldn’t work out anyway: this is real life, not a romantic comedy. Not that he’s into those, or anything.

            Finally, Crystal’s ready to go, saying goodbye to one last stuffy old guy by doing that double cheek air-kiss thing that Tyler will never understand. It’s while she’s occupied with this that Tyler feels a tap on his shoulder.

            He turns around, expecting to find another D-list actress attempting to drunkenly flirt with him. Instead, standing behind him, somehow looking even hotter up close, is Model Guy.

            All of Tyler’s breath leaves his lungs in a rush, making it impossible for him to speak. Model Guy picks up his slack, though, holding out a large hand and saying “Hey, I’m Colton”.

            Right, introductions. Tyler can do that. He takes Colton’s hand and gives it a firm shake. “Hey man. I’m Tyler,” he says, proud at how even his voice stays.

            Tyler moves to take his hand away, like any normal person would do, but Colton holds onto it – not tightly, just enough to show that he doesn’t want to let go. His eyes, piercing, rake over Tyler’s face and body in an obvious show of interest, and one corner of his mouth quirks up in a smirk.

            Tyler finds himself wondering whether it’s actually possible to die from sexual frustration. He has a feeling that, if it were, Colton would be the cause of many untimely deaths.

            “You’re from _Teen Wolf_ , right?” Colton asks, letting go of Tyler’s hand.

            “Uh, yeah,” Tyler says, slightly surprised that Colton knows the name of the show. Most people who aren’t die-hard fans usually just refer to it as ‘that one werewolf show on MTV’.

            “I auditioned for that,” Colton says, giving a genuine smile. “Got called back too, but lost out at the last second.” He doesn’t look at all bitter about that fact, which Tyler respects: he knows he’d be a little bitch if he was in the same situation.

            “Really?” Tyler asks, holding back a wince at his inane attempts at conversation. “For what part?”

            “Jackson.”

            Tyler lets his eyes run over Colton’s body again, trying to ignore the spark of attraction and picture him as Jackson. “You’d have been good,” he decides.

            “Looking to replace the guy they actually hired?” Colton asks.

            Tyler picks up the flirtatious undertone to his words, and decides fuck it. He’s probably never going to see Colton again after tonight, because he’s sure as shit not letting Crystal drag him to any more runway shows, so he doesn’t really have anything to lose if he flirts back. “Nah, he’s a great guy. Just think you look better with your shirt off, that’s all.”

            Colton’s eyes go dark and hot. “Yeah, fuck this small talk,” he mutters, casting a quick look over his shoulder to make sure no one’s listening. “Let’s get out of here.”

            Tyler is used to his conquests, male and female, requiring a little bit more game than that, but he’s absolutely not complaining. He’s already opening his mouth to say something (he’s not quite sure what, but he thinks it’ll contain the words ‘fuck yes’ somewhere) when he remembers that he came here with someone, and it’d be a dick move to abandon her just to get laid.

            So, what does end up coming out of Tyler’s mouth sounds more like “Ye – I mean, I can’t. Not right now.”

            Colton’s smile falls, and his eyes travel somewhere over Tyler’s shoulder to where Crystal, bless her, is still talking to that same old man, probably trying to give him space. “Is she your girlfriend, then?” Colton asks.

            Tyler doesn’t know how, exactly, Colton leaped to _that_ conclusion. “Oh – no, I just didn’t want to, like, ditch her, you know?”

            Colton smiles again, the easy and confident air he had displayed at the beginning of the conversation returning in full force. “Well, in that case,” he says, stepping closer to Tyler and pulling out a Blackberry. “Why don’t you give me your number, and we’ll work something out after you’re finished being a good friend?”

            He offers the phone to Tyler, who takes it, keying in his number under a new contact, which he saves as Tyler (guy from fashion show). When he gives the phone back, Colton laughs. “You know that ‘guy from fashion show’ isn’t really all that distinctive, right?” he asks. “I kinda meet a lot of people at fashion shows.”

            “Well, I figured that ‘guy who’s in the TV show you were almost in’ would be a little rude,” Tyler responds. He feels like he’s finally getting into the groove of this conversation, no longer acting like a teenage girl with a crush, or whatever.

            Unfortunately, it seems that he won’t get a chance to show off his renewed mastery of the English language, because he can see Crystal throwing him desperate ‘get me out of here’ looks from the corner of his eye.

            Colton seems to pick up on this. “Later, Tyler,” he says. “Text me, alright?”

            Tyler’s about to protest that he doesn’t actually have Colton’s number, but before he can get the words out, his pocket vibrates with an incoming text.

            Colton gives him another one of those big smiles as he melts into the crowd.

***

            Naturally, Crystal accosts him as soon as they get into the cab. “Oh my _God_ ,” she says. “I can’t believe that he actually came up to talk to you!”

            “Why, ‘cause he’s so much hotter than me?” Tyler asks, faking indignation.

            Crystal slaps him lightly on the upper arm. “You know what I mean,” she says.

            Tyler ducks his head, smiling. “Yeah, I do.”

            “Are you gonna see him again?” Crystal asks. “Tell me you’re gonna see him again.”

            Tyler holds out his phone wordlessly. On the screen is a text from Colton (who’s saved in his phone as Hot Model Guy, because Tyler puts in weird names for all his contacts) that reads _Wanna come over when you’ve dropped your friend off?_

            Crystal meets Tyler’s eyes with a wicked smile. “You said yes, right?” she asks, sounding as though she already knows the answer.

            In response, Tyler just shows her his last outgoing message. _Hell yeah! Where?_

***

            A little less than half an hour later, Tyler finds himself outside a nondescript apartment building. It doesn’t look like the sort of place to house a model, but then, Tyler pretty much has this picture in his head of all models living in, like, the Playboy mansion or something. So he’s not exactly the person to ask about this type of thing.

            He makes his way to a door with a 2 emblazoned on it and knocks. He feels like he should be nervous, preparing to meet up with someone who he’s only known for a few hours.

            He’s not, though: he’s been texting Colton pretty much constantly since they exchanged numbers, and he already feels like he’s known the guy his whole life. Colton in text messages is funny, humble, and a whole lot less intimidating than he is in person, and Tyler’s entirely confident that tonight will go well.

            The door swings open after a few seconds, and there’s Colton, looking all soft and approachable in a pair of flannel pajama pants and T-shirt.

            Tyler had been planning on opening up with some conversation, maybe cracking a few beers and playing some Halo or something before they got to any sexy stuff, but Colton, apparently, has different plans.

            “Hey,” he says, giving Tyler a quick smile, before pulling him in by the hips and kissing him.

            Colton’s a fucking fantastic kisser, striking just the right balance between firm and gentle, but it’s the sort of tentative kiss you give someone who you’re unsure about, and, now that he’s been given the green light, Tyler just doesn’t have any time for that shit.

            He tilts his head a bit, lets the kiss deepen and turn a little messy, and Colton responds with a little pleased grunt. After a few moments, Colton pulls away. It’s a bit disappointing, because Tyler was just starting to get into it, but he guesses there should probably be some sort of lead-in to this. Also, he’s still standing in the open door.

             He remedies that last point quickly, stepping inside and pulling the door shut behind him. Colton doesn’t exactly make it easy for him, not moving back an inch so that Tyler steps directly into his chest, which feels just as good as it looks. Tyler can’t help bringing his hands up to trace the outline of the pecs he’d admired earlier, making sure to brush over a nipple. “Dude, you’re like…a fucking Michelangelo statue, or something.”

            Colton shudders at the play of Tyler’s hands over his chest. “I don’t know about that,” he demurs.

            “Take it from someone who’s never seen one in person, you are,” says Tyler, moving his hands lower to tease at the bottom of Colton’s t-shirt.

            “Christ,” Colton mutters, and they’re kissing again. This time, Tyler makes an effort to focus on more than Colton’s lips moving against his own, slipping his hands up Colton’s shirt to run his nails lightly over washboard abs.

            Colton’s hands get into the mix, then, moving from Tyler’s hips to grip at his ass, pulling their groins flush against each other.

            It usually takes more than just a little kissing for Tyler to get fully hard, but, since he can safely say that he’s never kissed anyone as hot as Colton, he doesn’t feel too self-conscious about the enormous boner he’s currently sporting. It helps that the position of their hips allows him to feel that Colton’s just as hard as he is.

            Tyler makes the executive decision that Colton is wearing way too much clothing, and he breaks away from the kiss to tug the shirt over Colton’s head. He only gets the briefest glimpse of Colton’s face, flushed, with eyes dark and lips swollen, before he latches onto his neck, sucking at the pulse point he can feel beating just underneath the skin.

            Colton lets out a loud groan at that, and part of Tyler really wants to explore his apparently sensitive neck more, but he’s caught a glimpse of one of Colton’s nipple rings out of the corner of his eye, and he’s more interested in those, really.

            He has to stoop a little to get his mouth down near Colton’s nipple, but the slight discomfort doesn’t dissuade him in the slightest. He flicks his tongue out over the sliver ring a few times, teasing, before sucking the entire nipple into his mouth.

            Unfortunately, Tyler’s not given more time to enjoy the experience, because Colton gently pushes his face away. For a second, he’s concerned that he’s gone too far, somehow, though he doesn’t see how anyone could qualify nipple sucking as ‘too far’. Then, he sees the almost feral look in Colton’s eyes, and realizes that things are about to get a hell of a lot more interesting.

            “Bed,” Colton nearly growls. That guttural tone shouldn’t be nearly as sexy as it is, especially considering the content of _Teen Wolf_ , but what can he say?

            Colton twists a hand into the front of Tyler’s shirt (why is he even still wearing a shirt?) and begins to walk backwards, not taking his eyes off of Tyler’s face for a second. Tyler goes willingly, so hard he’s aching and ready to get his hands and mouth back on Colton.

            Colton leads him towards a closed door and reaches behind himself to open it, but Tyler takes advantage of the fact that they’ve stopped moving and kisses him again.

            Colton lets his hand drop from the doorknob and strips off Tyler’s shirt in one swift motion. Tyler decides that, while they’re doing the stripping thing, he might as well try to get Colton’s pants off, because he really, really wants to see Colton’s cock.

            He fumbles with Colton’s zipper, hands clumsy as he tries to divide his attention between that task and the swirl of his tongue in Colton’s mouth. He gets it down eventually, though, and wastes no time in pulling the pants and briefs down his thighs.

            Tyler’s down on his knees without any conscious thought, mouth watering at the sight of Colton’s dick. He takes it in his hand, giving it a light stroke, before leaning in and flicking his tongue against the head.

            Above him, Tyler hears a dull _thunk_ and he glances up to find that Colton’s let his head fall back against the door. Tyler allows himself a smug little grin before he gets back to work, sealing his lips around the head of Colton’s cock and sucking hard.        

            He pulls off, takes a deep breath, then sinks down as much as he can. Tyler, unfortunately, has a pretty strong gag reflex, but he’s learned through his various encounters with other guys that one can still give a fucking spectacular blowjob without deepthroating.

            Colton doesn’t seem to mind that Tyler’s got his hand wrapped around the part of his dick that he can’t fit into his mouth, if the way his hands have come up to twine in Tyler’s hair are any indication. Tyler just closes his eyes and enjoys it, the feeling of the cock, thick and heavy in his mouth, and the rhythmic contractions of Colton’s fingers in his hair.

            Before long, though, Colton’s tugging on Tyler’s hair slightly. Tyler pulls off with a little pop and looks up.

            Colton’s breathing heavily, but he manages to get out “I’m gonna come if you don’t stop.”

            Tyler tilts his head, considering. “Do you have anything important to do tomorrow?” he asks.

            Colton blinks, confused by the combination of the non-sequitur and Tyler’s hand, which has gone back to stroking his cock. “No?”

            Tyler makes a distracted _mmm_ noise, before leaning back in to take one of Colton’s balls in his mouth.

            Colton seems to decide to just let Tyler get on with it after that, which Tyler does gladly. His own dick is aching in his pants as he takes Colton in his mouth again, so he begins to fumble with his zipper, wanting to at least relieve the pressure. Before he can, though, Colton’s letting out a long, low moan. “I’m gonna -” he says, breaking off before he can finish the thought.

            Tyler gets the picture, though, and he abandons the search for his own pleasure to concentrate on getting Colton off. He takes Colton as deep as he can manage, pulls back a bit, and runs his tongue over the slit, and Colton’s done for.

            It’s only after Tyler’s swallowed that he remembers that he hadn’t figured out whether Colton is clean or not. He suspects, given how nice and cool Colton is, that he’d have said something before the whole mouth-to-dick action happened, but he figures that it can’t hurt to ask.

            “You clean?” he asks, getting back to his feet.

            “Huh? Oh, yeah,” Colton says, looking a bit dazed.

            “You don’t sound too sure of that,” Tyler teases.

            Colton shakes his head once, twice, then moves so he’s no longer leaning all his weight on the door. “I’m clean,” he says, voice strong and eyes lucid once more. “Now, I think it’s time I return the favor.”

            Tyler takes in the predatory look on Colton’s face and feels a hard tug of arousal in his gut. He doesn’t let it show on his face, though, merely giving a smirk as he allows Colton to pull him through the door.

***

            When Tyler sees Crystal the next day, he’s fully prepared for an interrogation. After all, that’s what all his other female friends (especially Holland, and god _damn_ is Tyler glad it hadn’t been her with him when he’d met Colton) would do.

            Instead, Crystal just gives him a smile and asks “You think you’re going to see him again?”

            Tyler flashes back to the previous night, the way Colton had taken him to bed, touched him all over, felt around his cock. Then he flashes back to this morning, when Colton had made him breakfast (Ok, so it was cereal, but it’s the thought that counts) and kissed him on the way out the door. He finds that he doesn’t even have to think about his answer.

            “Yeah,” he says, feeling a smile break out over his face. “Yeah, I think I will.”

 


End file.
